


Arrow of Time

by RubyGrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:45:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2277216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyGrace/pseuds/RubyGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia should learn to trust her gut</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrow of Time

Leaving Stiles at the hospital was the hardest thing Lydia has had to do this week, and although he had assured her that he would be fine, the quick tugging of his pale lips failed to convince her. Lydia knew all about MRI’s from the accelerated pre-med course she had taken over winter break - she had finally found time to finish “ _Thermodynamic Asymmetry in Time”_ and feeling confident in her understanding of the “arrow of time”, Lydia thought to try her hand at medicine, skimming easily through the neuroscience portion in her two week break (she figured, with Stiles off visiting his aunt in New York, and Kira touring the “top ten most dull, non-katana wielding” schools across the country with her dad, what else was there to do in the wintery town of Beacon Hills anyway?)

 

Even after Stiles reassured her for the 7th time nothing would go wrong, quickly pressing his lips to her forehead in an attempt to calm her grinding nerves, and that he didn’t need for her to waste her time sitting in a blank, sterile waiting room when she herself could be “working on a mathematics dissertation – they wont just give you the Field’s medal, you know…” and did she forget that he is a big boy who managed to single-handedly trap “big ol’ kanima-Jackson, thank you very much,” Lydia still wasn’t convinced. It took Melissa’s promise that she would stay and watch over his scan to finally let the redhead be pushed towards the car by the wiry brunette, leaving her abruptly with a sigh and a quick kiss as he darted back to where Mrs McCall was waiting just inside the hospital’s glass double doors.

 

Exhaling loudly, Lydia climbed into her silent blue Prius, closing her olive eyes and gently resting, her thin frame sinking into the leather seat. Her mind jumped impulsively, matching the pace of her knee as it bounced, making the golden heart charms on her stilettos click softly against the chain straps twining around Lydia’s delicate feet. Attributing her nauseous, churning stomach to the blueberry bagel she had wolfed down in her rush to meet Stiles before his appointment this morning, Lydia slid her heavy eyes open and started the car, smoothly reversing out of the park she had hastily left her small car, in favor of accompanying her lovable idiot into the hospital toting the current title of the highest supernaturally-induced death rate in Northern California.

 

Driving down the narrow road that runs alongside Beacon Hills Preserve, Lydia allowed her mind to wander. Ever since Scott, Stiles and… and Allison’s sacrifice almost a year ago, she had felt her bond with Stiles, her best friend, now her boyfriend, and her emotional tether grow stronger. The ways they never used to connect, never used to understand each other, they now did. He understood her love of knowledge and respected it more than any of her past boyfriends had. Jackson – her first love, wasn’t really love at all now she can see it for what it truly was; an abusive power-play from two emotionally-immature, emotionally-stunted people. The only thing they had respected about each other was the other’s need for dominance, which often led to many break-ups, and just as many passionate make-ups in a vicious game of chicken, fighting to see who could feign indifference the longest. Aiden however, was Jackson’s opposite. Although working under Deucalion for most of their relationship, the stocky teen had often overcorrected for his violent nature, remaining too gentle with her needs and wants, and often leaving Lydia alone to guide their relationship, not trusting in his own decisions.

 

Stiles was fortunately the perfect blend of the two. He knew what she wanted, and knew just how to give it to her, consistently surprising her both physically and emotionally. The small, responsible teen understood him better than she had the others, sharing in the same insecurities and fears, connecting as the only seemingly rational people in their reckless, headstrong, suicidal pack.

 

With Stiles on her mind, his pale skin, dark hair and striking, deep almond eyes, Lydia’s head began to pound furiously. Quickly losing her ability to concentrate, she swerved onto the road’s shoulder, stamping on the brakes and turning off the quietly humming car. A terror enveloped her, drowning out the electric violin thrumming from her small cobalt Toyota, leaving the tiny strawberry-blonde tightly gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white as she struggled against her insanity, fighting off what Lydia knew was inevitable.

 

The noise that only the porcelain girl could hear swiftly becoming unbearable, Lydia’s peach lips pulled taut as she screamed, releasing the fear and pain pooling in her gut. Her voice slowly stuttered out – leaving the younger Stilinski boy’s name dying on her lips. In that one moment, Lydia felt peaceful, her loud shriek overwhelming her thoughts, its echo leaving in its wake a strange sense of clarity, knowing exactly what the muffled voices were saying, were screaming. Just one word, the one person Lydia feared most hearing in her uncontrollable mind.

 

Hastily pushing the thin strands of rose hair that had escaped her perfectly styled milk-maid braids from where they stuck on her now-damp face, Lydia punched the button to start her hybrid, throwing the car into a dangerous turn and speeding back where she had mistakenly left the fragile boy alone.

 

Pulling up to the hospital in record time, Lydia flung her car into park as she screeched to a halt in a striped ambulance bay, receiving a string of curses from a short, male nurse quite obviously chain smoking at the doors as she ran inside, frantically scanning the halls for a sign pointing to radiology. Finally finding its location, E12, after sliding into a blonde, spectacled doctor as she hurled around a tight corner, Lydia made her way to where Stiles would likely be, hopefully lying still under a dome while a machine clunked painfully above him, measuring his brain activity.

 

At last reaching E12 - radiology, Lydia slowed her pace, stiffly restraining herself as she strutted towards the nurse’s station. Finding the worn Melissa bent over, filing paperwork in her blue scrubs, the younger woman gained her attention, demanding to see Stiles, _NOW_.

 

Melissa only raised a slender eyebrow, lengthening her spine as she stood up and pointing towards a door across the hall on their right. “He’s through there.” She replied “but you have to make sure…” Lydia didn’t hear the rest as she quickly sped off, slamming the door behind her in an attempt to get to Stiles.

 

Already knowing MRI protocol, Lydia began shedding her jewelry as she approached the viewing window, the thick glass barrier separating both her and Stiles. Turning her back, she placed her copious amounts of jewelry onto a tray and grabbed a vest, stumbling as she tried to pull the Velcro straightjacket over her thick woolen jumper. Walking past the barrier quickly, having finally managed to tug the gaudy, blue item over herself, she stops abruptly. Stiles is gone.

 

With only one way out, and Lydia’s slender body gracefully blocking the exit, she deflatedly determined its impossibility. She had not seen him, and in her desperation to find the young boy Lydia’s large eyes had seen what wasn’t actually there. Tossing her body back behind the glass she takes one more look, praying Mrs McCall had made a mistake to which room Stiles was in, even though she had sworn she had saw him lying there, and gasps, shocked to see him once again, his limp body lying within the machine, long legs all signifying his presence.

 

Hopping from one side of the thick glass to the other, like a tasteless tourist visiting the international date line, the small teen’s mouth drops as her pale, brunette boyfriend appears then disappears, appears, disappears. Lydia stills suddenly, glaring at her _stupid_ beau through the large panel and raises her small fists, abruptly banging on the glass in front of her porcelain face.

 

The tall boy jolts, surprised by the sudden onslaught of noise invading his still tranquility, which he now notices, is otherwise silent, missing the heavy metallic grinding that once emitted from the bulky machine above him. Gripping tightly onto the corners of the cave his body remained within, Stiles tugs, his pale muscles flexing taut, as he pulls his stiff body from under the hulking machine.

 

Upon seeing the small, strawberry-blonde girl he is unfortunately, undeniably in love with, and has been since 3rd grade, he drags his body skyward, sitting up gently, and awkwardly raises a hand to greet his seemingly frazzled girlfriend who is standing not 15 feet from him, his dark eyebrows rising in question of her clenched fist pressed against the thick glass.

 

Fear surges through him as he finally become aware of how she trembles, her tiny, quivering limbs jittering as he watches, puzzled. The larger teen quickly gets up, darting towards her, disproportioned limbs flying haphazardly as he hurries through the door, freezing as she disappears from view. Backing up slowly, his petite girlfriend pops back into existence as he passes over the threshold, her eyes filling as he finally comes to the same rapid conclusion that she had discovered… something is not good, something is not right. It is one of the two things he fears most, that either he is trapped somewhere, alone; or the one person, _his_ one person is just out of reach – the perfect-imperfect brilliant-beautiful girl he has tried to protect is gone, as swift as a blade he cannot stop, hurtling towards her fragile form.


End file.
